„Are you an artist?“ she questioned, deciding it was time to switch conversational topics. „Or do you just run the gallery?“
„I dabble,“ he admitted, setting the food on the redwood table and lifting the wine out of the chiller.
„In what?“ she asked, getting out of the lounger and coming across to join him at the table. The combination of crisp salad, fresh trout, and grilled corn was whetting her appetite as no restaurant meal could have done.
„Pottery,“ he replied succinctly, taking his seat „I did the piece you bought this afternoon.“
„You did! Why didn’t you say something? It’s lovely! I adore art that serves a purpose,“ she confided. „I know that’s not a proper approach, but I was born with this depressingly practical streak. I like things to be both functional and beautiful. Fm going to get a lot of use out of that bowl.“
„Good,“ he said cheerfully. „I fee! exactly the same way. Perhaps I’m more properly described as a crafts-person than an artist?“
„A meaningless distinction,“ Kalinda declared regally, going to work delicately on the trout „Why should useful art be downgraded to a ‘craft’?“
„My sentiments exactly,“ he smiled, looking quite pleased with himself. „I’ll show you some of the other pieces I’ve done after dinner. That is, if you’d like to see them?“
She met his encouraging glance and smiled warmly. „Of course, I would.“
A short, potent silence hung between them for an instant as they looked at each other. Kalinda found herself swallowing with a new twinge of uncertainty. What was wrong with her? She wasn’t interested in this man except as a casual dinner date. Why this new restlessness which had begun to temporarily replace the nervousness she’d been experiencing? This new sensation had nothing at all to do with her plans for the coming weekend. The confrontation with David Hut-ton still awaited her. It should be the uppermost concern in her mind. Yet here she was being subtly overtaken by an altogether different mood.
Irritably she gave a mental shrug and made a deliberate effort to pull back from the spell she sensed her host was trying to weave. They were exactly what she’d described a few minutes earlier, two strangers who happened to encounter each other briefly but who shared nothing lasting or binding. A casual dinner engagement.
„I’ll bet you’re telling yourself I’m not your type,“ Rand murmured easily, taking a bite off the corn cob. He didn’t appear concerned by his accurate guess.
„Why not?“ she countered breezily. „If you’re honest with yourself, you’d be saying the same thing. We are two very different kinds of people, aren’t we, Rand?“ Firmly she tried to make him acknowledge that basic fact.
„Who can say? We’ve hardly gotten to know each- other. Even if that were so, would it matter?“
„Oh, yes, it matters,“ she nodded.
„Meaning that you’re much too practical to risk getting involved with a man who doesn’t fit readily into your lifestyle?“
Kalinda decided it was time to take charge of the situation. Taking charge was something she did instinctively and well. „How long have you worked with pottery, Rand?“
He hesitated, as if trying to decide whether or not to let her change the topic. And then he lifted one smoothly muscled shoulder as if it wasn’t all that important, after all.
„Nearly two years. I have a kiln in my workshop over there.“ He indicated a small building behind the house. „Are you sure you wouldn’t rather talk about us?“
„Very sure,“ she smiled coolly.
„What can a host do except defer to the wishes of his guest?“ he whispered gallantly.
„Thank you,“ Kalinda retorted with the self-possession that comes from regularly having her wishes deferred to by others. „The trout is delicious.“
They lingered over dinner as the waning summer sun settled behind the mountain, casting the lake and its environs into shadows. The tall pine and fir among which the house nestled rustled lightly in the faint breeze and the bottle of Chardonnay slowly emptied. It was turning into a very pleasant evening, Kalinda decided, wondering how that could be when she had so much on her mind. But tonight Rand Alastair was making it possible for her to put her doubts and worries about the weekend aside for a while. She was grateful to him for it.
He displayed his pottery with an unaffected pleasure later after Kalinda had helped him clear the table and carry the dishes into the modern, compact kitchen. She went from piece to piece, genuinely admiring the warm colors, rich glazes, and original design.
„You’re very talented,“ she remarked, carefully setting down the small pot she was holding and wondering privately how he could possibly make a living off the pottery and the gallery. She knew a lot about business, even if she didn’t know a great deal about the specific business of running a small art and craft store.
„It’s a hobby,“ he murmured as she turned around to face him. He was standing very close behind her, much closer than she had realized and Kalinda found herself swinging softly against his chest His arms were around her even as she opened her Bps to apologize. The impact sent a small shock through her and her gray eyes widened.
„I'm sorry,“ she managed, suddenly, fiercely aware of the warmth and strength in his lean, hard body. „I didn’t realize you were standing so near…“
„My fault entirely,“ he assured her, his arms tightening around her, pulling her closer with a forcefulness she would have said earlier wasn’t in character. „I've been looking for an excuse to kiss you all evening…“
Kalinda saw the lambent flame beginning to flare in the dear hazel gaze above her and wondered at her own reaction. It was curiosity, she decided, which was going to hold her still for his kiss. The same curiosity that had made her follow the sound of his voice that morning. There was something different about this man.
Before she had time to analyze the difference, Rand’s mouth was covering her own.
Kalinda sensed the power in the arms which held her and knew with a rush of realism that, even if she hadn’t been curious, she would still be standing in his embrace, awaiting his kiss. She knew in that moment that she couldn’t have broken Rand’s hold.
2
Kalinda wasn’t certain exactly what she was expecting from Rand’s kiss, but it definitely wasn’t the gentle, persuasive aggression she got. His kiss was a contradiction, she thought vaguely as her fingertips automatically came up to brace against the broad shoulders. Or was it? Could a man be both gentle and aggressive at the same time?
The warm, probing caress grew around her, enveloping her senses even as she tried to retain some control over herself and him. It was like stepping into an inviting pool of water only to discover silvery quicksand beneath one’s feet.
„There’s cool silk on the surface,“ he husked against her lips. „But I have a hunger to find out what’s underneath…“
„Rand, please, I…“ Kalinda’s small effort to halt the soft invasion collapsed as his tongue parted her lips.
She heard him groan, felt his hands slide down the bare silk dress to her waist and was unable to repress the little shiver of excitement that coursed through her.
Her mouth yielded to the heated challenge with a will of its own. Rand’s tongue explored the sweet, intimate interior as a jungle cat seeks out a forest den. His lips moved on hers, forcing a dampening, electric contact that denied any attempt at retreat on her part.
Kalinda grew a little shocked at her own response. This wasn’t like her, as any of her recent escorts could have testified! Even with David it hadn’t been this sudden, this overwhelming…
Rand’s fingers dipped lower, shaping the curve of her waist, pressing with growing urgency into the flare of her hips. He pulled her abruptly closer, nestling her into the cradle of his thighs and Kalinda sucked in her breath on a low moan of surprise mingled with dismay.